


untitled

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-24
Updated: 2007-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen and Jared paint a picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled

Getting into painting is like getting into photography. There’s a certain angle, a line that catches his eye and he follows it wherever it leads. This is how Jensen Ackles starts to take pictures, then paint those pictures in his trailer between takes. Jared Padalecki begins associating that chemical smell of paint, turpentine and plain old creativity with him from then on. Sometimes, if he’s quiet and still, Jensen lets him stick around to watch him work. Jared can’t help but get into Jensen because of this, because of his…He can’t think of the proper word to explain what exactly makes him stalk his best friend like a puppy or a serial killer or whatever, but he does it. Has since the day they met.

This afternoon Jensen has a photo of himself on the upper right corner of the easel, and a blank canvas before him. Jared waits to see what colors he’ll use, what curves, what craziness. He waits to see if Jensen will make the painting as controlled as he can so often be, much to Jared’s disappointment. He sighs when Jensen’s thin brush follows a straight line from point A to point B. He sighs audibly before he can reign himself in.

“Jay…” Jensen warns.

“Yeah?” He tries to sound innocent but gives it up when another line goes down the canvas and the sound escapes him again.

“You can leave, you know?” A few more lines across the bright whiteness and Jared is on his feet.

“Give me the brush,” he commands.

“No!”

“Give it!” Knowing Jensen isn’t half as prone to rough-housing with him as people like to think, he grabs for the brush and holds it up triumphantly between them. “Jesus, dude, that is so _not_ you!”

As if he knows. But he does. This is the worst part. Jared knows Jensen in ways no one else has or will. And there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. But he wouldn’t even if he could. Makes being himself a lot easier. Which is why he doesn’t protest too much when Jared drops the brush unceremoniously into a cup of water to rinse it. He picks up a brush with a fatter tip and swirls it into a smudge of ochre on Jensen’s palette. He eyes the canvas for a brief second, then swirls the brush onto the canvas, his long arm letting the tip cover more than Jensen believed possible. But Jared isn’t done. He rinses the brush, then dips it into indigo. More swirling ensues. By the time the painting is deemed finished Jared has used every color on the palette, including azure, black, sunset, other colors he never knew existed before, and every shape and angle known to geometry. Jensen has to admit, though, that it looks…annoyingly interestingly. Different. Colorful as all hell and it makes no sense, but it all somehow works. Jared steps back to admire his handiwork.

“That’s more like it.” He looks over at Jensen. “That’s you.”

“Dude?” He can’t see where his beginning lines where at all. And he wonders how in the world Jared sees so much when he looks at him. He wonders if the painting is allowed to be considered pretty damn good when it’s himself. “It’s good but it’s definitely not me.”

“Oh, no, it’s you. All of you. You just never let yourself see it.” He nods with finality. He turns back to the painting at the same moment that Jensen does. “Beautiful huh?” he murmurs.

It takes them both a full minute and a half, not that either was counting, to realize what Jared says, to realize it’s meaning. And neither knows how to react. Jared wants to take it back but doesn’t know how. He hadn’t meant for Jensen to ever know about his feelings. What happens next takes him completely by surprise.

“You think I’m beautiful, Jay?” The way he asks the question, his tone, floors Jared. He knows Jensen has been told he’s pretty most of his life. He’s even been told he’s beautiful a time or two. But Jared hadn’t known until now that he never believed it. They don’t talk about it, of course, but still, the guy had to have known, right?

“Well, yeah,” he says dumbly. He tries to not to look at Jensen when he answers but Jensen tugs on his chin.

“And you think I’m that…” He points at the painting, the boldness of it, the breathlessness it invokes. “…That?” It’s on the tip of Jared’s tongue to say the word again, just to make Jensen’s eyelashes flutter a little like they are right now.

“I always have, Jen,” he says instead. He smiles tenderly, unself-consciously.

And it’s there, in that smile, that Jensen reads the truth. Reads the strength, the beauty, the passion. This is how Jared sees him. This is why he loves him. It scares Jensen more than anything has before, but he doesn’t look away. Not when Jared’s still smiling as if he is standing next to a god. Jensen isn’t a god. Not by a long shot, but he loves Jared back just as much. Only needed an excuse to tell him so. When he kisses him Jared is waiting like he expected it, like it was the next logical step. And it is. Wildly freeing and still scary, but it is. Jensen only pulls away to whisper his name.

“Mm?” Jared hums against his lips.

“When are we supposed to be back on set?” Jared just sighs once more, and licks the grin Jensen wears right off his beautiful face.


End file.
